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Captured Again! Part 3

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        Luck was on her side that day. For at the end of that road, just across a small bridge, she found a welcome sight. It was a house. A small one, but still a house. Farmers lived their, though she didn't know them. They would have food! Maybe they would even let her work enough to get money for a pair of shoes. Or even better, they might have some in her size!
        With a hopeful smile on her face, she rushed up to the door. She knocked quickly, and probably louder than she should have. Not only did no one answer, but the door swung open. That was strange for sure, but Freyja was hungry, and cold.

        'The owners might be hurt', was how she convinced herself to go inside. The house was empty though. It looked like no one had been up here in awhile. There were stairs that led down to the basement, she might find supplies down there. Right now though, she was a bit distracted by a loaf of bread on a shelf. 

        She sprung on it like a hungry fox attacking a rabbit. It was hard and stale, but it was still better than prison food. She munched on it, eager to stuff it into her stomach. She was so distracted by the bread, that she never noticed the movement in the room.

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        A groan escaped her lips when she finally started to wake up. Her head hurt, but her stomach was full. It was a very confusing combination of pain and satisfaction. Still, she knew something was wrong. Her arms told her that. They were pulled behind her back, and her wrists were touching. Her back was arched, and her hands came but inches from touching her ankles. Those were bound as well, and a short rope connected the two bindings.

        What the hell had happened to her? These damn ropes were so tight! They were rough, and chafed her skin. When she took a look around, it was easy to tell she was in the basement of the same house. She was lying on the bed against the far wall from the stairs.

        The concerning part of that was, that the room was full of forsworn. There was one male, and three females. The females were all Shamans. She knew that because of their face paint, and because the male was an undead briarheart. His skin was pale from the lack of blood flow. But when he glared at her, she could see he was still intelligent.

        “What are you doing? Let me go this instant!” Freyja insisted as they started to notice her. She was outnumbered, and a bit nervous about it.

        The youngest of the three female shamans stepped forward. “Finally you are awake! You see my dear, you are going to help me graduate to master shaman rank! All I need to do is sacrifice you in front of one of our leaders! She should be just a few days. So just sit tight okay?”

        “Don't taunt the meat Skalla.”

        “I'm sorry Master...”

        Freyja was so busy being speechless that she hardly noticed the conversation. Was it too late to go back to prison? That was highly preferable to being sacrificed by a tribe of savages! She pulled on the ropes harder than ever, but she was not nearly strong enough to break this crude cordage. Coiled as it was, it would have taken two horses to snap it.

        “When will Mistress Mayaka be here Master?”

        “Child, you are but too impatient. We have much preparation to do before then. We must secure the sacrifice to the ceremonial cross. Sister, is your concoction prepared?”

        “I have but just finished Sister.”

        “Isn't there anything I can do until then Master?”

        “Ah, I remember fondly the days of my youth, then I had such energy as this! Alright dear, I will teach you to draw the sacred symbols okay? Go find some parchment to draw on. And bring the goat's blood.”

        Skalla skipped off happily, and could be heard rooting around in the house. The older women talked over the boiling pot, and seemed to be preparing something. The one who was called 'Master' pulled out a stick of cinnamon, and dipped it in the pot. With the stick coated in the purple steaming goo, she came to Freyja.

        “You don't have to do this!” Freyja begged as she got close.

        “Oh but I do child. Now breathe deep.”

        The last act of rebellion Freyja could give was to hold her breath, but even that didn't last long. Soon she was forced to inhale sharply through her mouth, and she got a mouthful of steam in return. The steam tasted like cinnamon, and made her dizzy. She was getting tired, but fought to stay awake. It was useless though. Whatever she had been given was too strong. Soon Freyja was out cold.

I do not own Skyrim.

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Like it so far she just cant catch a break really liked her view of the Dragonborn in the second part look forward to reading more if it comes.